Rolemodel
by Silawen
Summary: After a talk with Unohana Kenpachi has decided that Yachiru needs a female rolemodel. He goes to the woman he respects most for help.


**Title:** Rolemodel  
**Author:** **silawen** (Sila) / Lalaith86  
**Rating:** PG-13 for some Zaraki's potty mouth.  
**Characters:** Slight hints of Zaraki/Soifon. Mentions of Yachiru and Yumi.  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach. Honest.  
**Summary:** after a talk with Unohana Kenpachi has decided that Yachiru needs a female rolemodel. He goes to the woman he respects most for help.

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**Rolemodel.**

It doesn't take a particularly bright shinigami to sense Zaraki Kenpachi coming. His reiatsu sweeps through the streets along with him, licking at the walls, ground, and whomever is unlucky enough to be around. Most back away, others – those strong, or foolish, enough to not waver under the pressure – stand their ground and only avert their gaze when he passes. Never lock eyes with an animal, after all.

Soifon isn't just any shinigami. While most have already sensed him coming their way, she felt the change in the air the moment he left his room. Now, as the surge of energy draws ever closes, she pauses momentarily and instructs her team to halt. They wait obediently as she jumps on top of the wall and gazes off into the distance.

A blur, that's all he is at first. An image moving along empty streets – he causes that, she notes – at a steady pace that few people could follow, even though he's not really trying. Her sharp eyes catch the glinting metal in his hair as her muscles twitch at the steadily growing force of reiatsu. She suddenly remembers why she usually avoids him. Her body is trained to deal with threats, and Zaraki is such a threat that she has trouble ignoring her limbs when they call out to her. He would probably enjoy the fight, though, and that is something she doesn't think he deserves.

By the time he's reached their training ground, Soifon has considered various reasons for him to show up. None calm her nerves.

Though she is towering over him from her spot on the wall, his figure is still imposing. The feral grin on his lips goads her and she imagines, just for a second, jumping off and kicking him in the face. If there's anything she knows, then it's that she's faster than him. He'd be dead in seconds.

"Oy!" he calls out, one hand resting comfortably on his zanpakutou's hilt and the other brushing his neck. Trained eyes search for Yachiru, but she doesn't seem to be there. Talk about small mercies.

"What?" she replies, squatting down. She has no illusions about pleasantries or titles. While most people would get a kick in the head for not addressing her with anything other than what she's worked so hard for to earn, this man wouldn't know the meaning of it anyway. She had worked years for something he'd taken in one afternoon, probably because he was bored. No, though she wishes it were different, expecting anything other than frank honesty from him is pure folly.

He seems to regard her for a moment and Soifon allows her reiatsu to flare for just a second. A warning, perhaps, or a reminder. Her place, her rules. She doesn't fear him like most do. He could never touch her. It causes his lips to curl again.

"Whaddaya say about comin' down?"

Her nose wrinkles, though she isn't sure if it's distaste or amusement. She doesn't usually have time – or the inclination – to ponder such things. The distaste would be logical, though, because his crude words feels like an order. She doesn't take orders. Yet at the same time she can feel a flitter of amusement at the thought of how his words would enrage some of her fellow captains. Kuchiki, Kurotsuchi, maybe even their resident little boy wonder, they'd sneer at him. Then again, she isn't sure if they sneered because of the language or just because he is Zaraki Kenpachi. She can understand both.

She crosses her arms. "How about you come up?"

Watching him shrug, she prepares just in time for the enormous lurch of energy and the thudding of feet hitting stone. Having landed mere feet away from her, Zaraki is once again hanging over her like a cloud blocking out the sun. Soifon doesn't move, though her feet are planted and ready to propel her away from him. She knows all about the man's habit of randomly striking up battles, even though he's not supposed to initiate combat with his fellow captains. (Which just leaves more vice-captains for him to beat up, but Soifon could care less about them, not even her own.)

She watches as he turns, looking out over Seireitei much like she does. He stands tall and the bells produce small tremors of sound whenever the wind hits them. It's almost peaceful, if not for the steady drum of reiatsu that pounds in her ears.

"You're tiny," the burly man comments, glancing over at her before turning his attention back to the hustle and bustle below them. Now the movement of the captain of the 11th has ceased people are finally roaming the streets again.

"Surprisingly observant, Kenpachi," she replies, not able to keep from mocking him slightly. She supposes everyone is tiny to him – except perhaps Komamura – but she gets the gist of his words. "And you'd be dead in a few seconds, if I ever wanted you to be."

A clatter of laughter, running up her arms much like his reiatsu does. The hulk of a man seems amused, though she's sure he knows there's truth in her words. Zaraki Kenpachi might be the best fighter in the Gotei 13, but she is the best assassin.

"I wouldn't doubt it," he says, too entertained for her liking. Those she threatens – even just in mockery – aren't supposed to laugh at the idea. Then again, this is Zaraki Kenpachi. She doesn't doubt his ability to make light of certain death.

"That's exactly why I came to ya, though," he continues, sun sprawling over his face as he still looks away from her. He probably doesn't realize how rude that is.

"Oh?" she inquires, relaxing slightly in the breeze and feel of spring. There is a scent of flowers on the wind, whirling around them. As if drawn to their strength, it threatens to break through Kenpachi's reiatsu, then backs off again. Her muscles enjoy the relaxation, but her mind knows how ironic the setting is. Two hardened warriors shouldn't be surrounded by the scent of peace.

"I talked to Unohana-san today," he starts, a grin to his face. "She thinks Yachiru needs some kinda rolemodel. I told 'er I'm the best rolemodel there is, but apparently I'm missing somethin'."

Soifon smirks. "You're missing a whole lot, Kenpachi. Like parts of your brain."

He just grins in reply. "Oh, I know that. Can't be right when I'm here talking to you, now can I? Apparently she thinks Yachiru'll be needin' a woman in her life. Che, like I need another Yumichika rubbing off on her."

He swears, rubbing his neck. Soifon doesn't know what to say, so she remains quiet. If this is going where she thinks this is going, then she'd rather not instigate him further. Maybe if she's really quiet, he'll forget she's there.

Below, standing just far enough not to intrude, but close enough to jump up and get themselves killed, her men stand, watching intently and twitching whenever Zaraki makes a move. Their loyalty is striking, but Soifon is annoyed at their ignorance. They wouldn't stand a chance against the lumbering fool.

She regards him, catching him scratching his neck again. As if Yachiru's absence causes his skin to crawl. Soifon hopes he's made sure that his brat isn't out there terrorizing someone, because she still remembers the last time Kurotsuchi tried to kill her. The cleaning crew was busy for days.

"Spit it out," she says eventually, annoyed at the time she's wasting listening to him. Her tasks are numerous, including whipping her Division into shape, and don't usually include talking to men like Kenpachi.

"Unohana-san said to find m'self someone to teach Yachiru things."

"_Things,_" Soifon repeats and Kenpachi shrugs.

"You know, womanly things. Whatever it is you women do all day."

Soifon feels her reiatsu grow before she has time to reign it back. Kenpachi doesn't seem to notice, but she balls her fists regardless and glares at him.

"I train all day. I fight hollow all day. I don't _do_ womanly things."

He grins, teeth bared and rather unsettling. She fights the urge to file them down to mere stomps with her zanpakutou.

"That's why I chose ya. You won't turn Yachiru into some prissy little princess. You're a warrior! Better you than those meddling wusses she always hangs with."

She knows who he's talking about. Yachiru has her endearing qualities, as most of Soul Society would agree on, but very few people truly consider her their friend. Matsumoto and Nanao count, but obviously don't meet the captain's high standards.

"I think Unohana-taichou was talking about herself, Kenpachi," Soifon says wearily. "Or at least someone more…_her_. I doubt she had me in mind."

The mere thought of teaching Yachiru things like that – drinking tea in the garden, or brushing each other's hair – makes her shudder. She greatly respects Unohana Retsu, but she respects her for being everything Soifon is not. The world doesn't need too much of the same and Unohana's qualities are exactly what Soifon lacks. Kindness. Understanding. The gentle touch of a healer's hand. They work for her and the position she's found herself in. Soifon needs to be different to do the same.

Yachiru has been raised – though she isn't sure 'raised' is the right word – to be much more like Soifon than she is Unohana, something that proved useful in battle but not outside of it. Soifon can see why the captain of the 4th Division would urge Kenpachi to find her a rolemodel other than the biting, fighting brutes of the 11th.

"Che," Kenpachi spits out, "I'm not leaving Yachiru with people like that. She's 11th Division, not some pansy from the 4th. If we had any actual women in the 11th who could deal with her, I would go there, but there ain't. Damn women never have the guts to survive with us long."

Her zanpakutou calls out to her again, ready to avenge someone's honour, but Soifon quiets it down. Somewhere in his assault on women – or at least women who'd tried to fit in at the 11th barracks – she spies a compliment. For she isn't like the incomparable Unohana Retsu, or the meek, or lazy. She is a fighter, ready to face whatever danger spews forth, and more like Kenpachi than she'll ever dare admit.

"I would be a lousy rolemodel, Kenpachi," she tries, half-heartedly, but there's something in the glimmer of his eyes that convinces her he's not letting this go. Part of her feels honoured, that the crazy brute thinks she's the only one fit for the job. Part of her revels in the reiatsu that chews away at hers. Part of her, buried deep down, enjoys the thought of sparring with him, even for just a while. Very few people are like her the way Zaraki Kenpachi is.

She sighs, wondering how a bratty vice-captain will fit with her training-regime, but eventually she gives up.

"Fine," Soifon mutters. "Tell her to meet me here tomorrow morning, eight o'clock sharp."

The pleased flutter of reiatsu coming her way stays with her the remainder of the evening and as she sits, muscles sore after having taken her annoyance out on her team, she wonders why two of Soul Society's best never get to talking. Sighing, she closes her eyes in meditation.


End file.
